Forced Confessions : Dirty Laundry
by Suicide Chipmunk
Summary: Dirty Laundry added. Jak and Torn do not feel the need to share their secrets but Dark Jak decides to shuffle the deck…
1. Forced Confessions

_Name of the story is actually Forced Confessions/Dirty Laundry, but it seems like the slash-symbol can't be used in the title._

_Characters and venues belong to Naughty Dog. _

_Timing takes place during Jak II. Not compatible with the official time- and storyline. _

_Rated T for language and most mildly depicted sexual action. _

_Each and every review is welcome in spite of is it praising or criticizing:_)

* * *

**Forced Confessions**

On the coast of a land whose name was long lost forgotten lay a rather unpicturesque city bathing in the light of two setting suns, one scorching and golden, the other eerie and green. A cloud of smog surrounding the town revealed the existence of advanced technology and the eminent and seemingly thick walls bid the beholder bye-bye from afar. The city, ironically called Haven, was not a peaceful place with its never-ending civil wars and insurrections. The towering walls were once built to protect the people of Haven from monstrous creatures of the Wastelands but now their most important mission was to prevent the escape of the public frightened by the ever so commonplace acts of violence. The weight and the future of this industrial and restless city lay on the shoulders of one man, and one man only…

The man in question wrinkled his tattooed forehead and reached out his hand for yet another map.

Torn was intelligent enough to know that the future of Haven was not solely in his hands – if it was in his hands at all – but that didn't stop him from feeling that way. As the commander of the rebellion he had more responsibility than he sometimes thought he deserved. The demanding lifestyle ('job' would have been an understatement) had taken its toll: Torn looked older than he was. Sending men on so-called suicide missions was not easy as wasn't surviving the every day life in the city while being perpetually hunted by the forces of Krimzon Guards.

The head of the Underground was valuable, and aching.

Torn stared at the absolutely precise maps. Why? He didn't remember it himself.

_Oh yes. The cargo to the ammo dump._

He hated paper work so much, but knew that a mission without a strategy was most likely to end up a disaster. So, he stared at his maps. Rearranged them. Flipped them one-eighty degrees and drew invisible lines with his fingers. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't come up with a foolproof plan. So, he continued staring… He hardly believed in intuition or momentary inspiration, he believed that a thought would come up if you thought hard enough. It just was that lately his thoughts hadn't been interested in ammo dumps, suicide missions nor eavesdropping on Baron.

He looked up as he heard the outermost door slide open. He lowered his hand to his six-shooter as he always did, just in case the visitor was someone who wasn't supposed to be there. The second door slid open.

"Torn", said a green-and-blonde-haired faery before falling flat on the floor.

"Jak?" Torn hollered and jumped over his desk. He rushed to the fallen faery and turned him over. The first thing he noticed in horror he didn't let show was a trail of blood leading to the outer door. The second was the vacant look in the faery's eyes.

"Torn, I did it", the bloody faery said in a delirious tone, "I, I-i blew those Hell Cats away."

"It looks like they blew you away", Torn murmured and lifted Jak in his arms.

"I did it", Jak repeated as Torn lay him down on the desk, "those Hell Cats are not taking anyone down no more."

"That's great", Torn said trying to find an uplifting tone while undressing the faery in order to find the bleeding places.

_Yeah, really great. Hell how darn great…_

Torn swore aloud. A major and wildly bleeding wound in Jak's thigh ran deep into the femoral artery.

"What is it?"

"Nothing", Torn answered quickly and rushed to the closet. He dragged out a rather worn-out medication pack, shoved it open and started wrapping gauze around the faery's leg.

"Where is Daxter? I did it, I mean, I did it. What's the next mission? That's never gonna help, tattoo man."

Torn lifted his face to look at Jak. The last sentence had not sounded like Jak at all, just as if his voice had been changed for six words.

"What is it? Is it bad?" Jak asked back in his normal voice, "I don't think they got me so bad, they tried to shoot me, but I blew them off."

Then, just after the last word Jak's face got paler and something dark flashed in his eyes: "tattoo man, yeah that's right, listen to me: where's the eco ore?"

"Who are you?" Torn asked though he was sure he knew already.

"What? Me, Jak? Don't you remember?"

Then again the paler one answered: "I'm the one who's gonna save this body. The dark eco ore, now!"

Torn kept on binding the bleeding wound, "why?"

"'Cause that wrapping and lapping is no use, damnit! See, I'm the so-called Dark Jak. I don't bleed, so release me! This so-called normal Jak is not concentrated enough to do it. Damnit, tattoo head, quick!"

Torn, still not sure about how good the idea was, leaped to the closet again and threw Jak a sealed bag.

"Oh, is this the next mission?" the so-called normal Jak asked, opened the bag and thrust his hand in. Suddenly his body was surrounded by purple flashes and then a white-skinned and white-haired version of Jak was sitting on the bloodstained maps. "Thanks, tattoo head, a wise move. You know, all the gauze and gaffa in Haven wouldn't have helped at all. I know, it's my leg, too."

Torn stared into the pitch-black eyes. "You stay right where you are."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to go anywhere else", Dark Jak said with a touch of irony, "the dark eco ore is here, without that I'd run out of energy. Of course I could take the bag, go downtown, rape a few pedestrians and come up smelling like a rose, but you wouldn't let me, right?"

"Right."

"But anyway, tell me", Dark Jak said and played with a little eco crystal, "how bad is your knowing of faery biology?"

Torn leaned at a wall, his hand still comfortably close to his six-shooter. "I'm educated, if that's where you coming at."

"Educated? In Krimzon Guards, huh? Well, they're keener on making blood seep than making it stop", Dark Jak laughed. The laughter didn't sound especially sinister or creepy, but nevertheless it sent shivers up and down Torn's spine. "Didn't you know that that wound in thigh was fatal?"

"Yes."

"Well why the hell did you play with that silly petty gauze roll, then?"

Torn remained silent, then shrugged under the pressure of those wholly black eyeballs.

_Those eyes…_

"That's what to do", he said finally, "when something's impossible you still give it your best try."

Dark Jak tore the fabric from around his white-skinned leg and showed the big purple wound. "See, I told you I don't bleed. That's 'cause I've no blood to run out." A tiny purple lightning zapped from one side of the unnatural lesion to the other.

Torn had been quite interested about Jak's past, yet hadn't found a way to ask the faery himself. He had heard miscellaneous bits here and there (he hadn't listened in, ahem, he wasn't that kind of a person, ahem) and he had connected the dots himself. So far he knew, that Jak and that orange public nuisance (who by the way was at the moment on a mission in the Palace) had come from a place called Sandover, which sounded familiar to Torn but he didn't know where he had heard it before. Jak had been captured by KGs and spent some time in jail. Daxter had freed him (_Mar know how!_) and they had met Kor and saved the mysterious kid. There was something between Jak and dark eco, even Kor had told Torn that he keep Jak away from that particular eco if possible. He had also heard that there was another Jak inside the Jak he saw, a sinister and dark Jak, a killing machine, although Torn didn't know how much to believe.

Now Torn couldn't help but believe in the sinister and dark Jak.

"Exciting." He said unenthusiastically to cut the silence short. The void-like stare gave him creeps, but he didn't want to turn away his own eyes.

Dark Jak snarled. He took a dark eco crystal from the bag and placed it between his teeth. Torn shivered by the horrible sound of a crunching crystal.

"So, tell me", Dark Jak said between two bites, "why do you hate that guy that much?" He pointed at the poster of Erol. The rebels used it as a dartboard and someone had painted a red cross across his face.

"Him?" Torn shrugged again, "we don't get along."

"Oh, is that all?" Dark Jak's eyes seemed to drill into Torn's medulla.

"Yep."

"Don't lie", Dark Jak smirked.

Torn crossed his arms over his chest. "Why are you so willing to know about him?"

Now the white creature shrugged, "it's like his fault that I exist. And, I'm a curious person, you know." He took another small crystal from the bag and chewed it. Then he suddenly sighed. "Do you have any idea of how frustrating it is to live inside someone else's head? To see life through someone else's orbs? You see, I make no decisions. I give Jak advice ev'ry now and then but does he listen to me?" Dark Jak laughed again, "no. And only times I am freed are the moments when Jak is about to turn into a pile of sanguinary glop. Then, he lets me out due to my supreme dark powers, but I never get to do anything fun whilst I'm so caught up in the ongoing onslaught…" Dark Jak shrugged again and smiled, showing his sharp fangs, "though slaughtering people is fun."

Torn stayed quiet. A little part of him felt some sort of twisted pity for Dark Jak but mostly the creature made him sick.

_Those eyes… And those – no._

"You don't talk much?" Dark Jak asked in a light tone while playing with a new crystal, "why's that?"

Torn sat on one of the bunks. "I guess I'm not that chitty-chatty type."

"Yeah, right. Just like Jak, you noticed? Sometimes I start to believe he is mute, and hey I do live inside his head, man."

Torn felt a bit frustrated. How long had it been? Less than quarter an hour? And how long would he have to listen to this alleged killing machine? Whole evening? Whole night?

_It's gonna be a long long night…_

"C'mon", Dark Jak hollered, "for once I can actually talk to someone else than the mister heroic renegade fake-blond, and what? Yeah, what? I end up engaged in a one-sided conversation with someone whose eloquence is worse than that orange rodent's personal hygiene. And I can't even say that life's a bitch 'cause bitches please me."

Torn almost chuckled for that, but succeeded in keeping his poker face.

"Aren't these pretty expensive?" Dark Jak said and took another eco pebble, "worth about ten of your men's lives? 'Cause this is good stuff, I've never had dark eco ore this pure and tasty. Why you wasting these on me? Not that I'd complain."

"Jak's one of my best", Torn said.

"Man, you can do better. C'mon, say it. Jak is the best."

"Well, yeah. He's the best."

Dark Jak smiled. "All thanks to me, thank you my beloved ones", he said in a mock pageant queen voice, waving his hand in the air for imaginary crowd, "I know you all luuuv me, thank you, thank you, oh would you like an autograph?"

Torn almost cracked a tiny smile.

"But to return to the original topic", Dark Jak said back in his normal, a bit wheezy voice, "what is between you and Erol?"

Torn groaned. "Not again."

"See, he hates you so so so much. It must be something personal."

"Well, I'm the commander of the revolt. That's a good reason for him to hate me."

"That's nothing personal."

"Possibly it isn't."

Dark Jak picked at his teeth with one of his long claws and then said: "Believe me, I had a most marvellous chance to listen to him for hours during me and Jak's time as his guinea pig and he doesn't hate the rebellion or The Shadow as much as he talks about his hate on you."

"His hate for rebellion must culminate on me."

"Okay, don't answer then", Dark Jak said and threw his hands in the air, "I just know that you are lying. Perhaps I shall ask him."

Now Torn chuckled sarcastically. "When are you gonna do that?"

"Right now", Dark Jak took the bag and bounced to his feet. Torn jumped up from the bunk and leaped in front of him.

"You're not going anywhere!" he said pointing his gun at the dark eco mutant.

"But daddy, I need no babysitter", Dark Jak mocked, "I'm a big devil, I can handle myself."

"Sit down", Torn hissed from between his teeth.

"Oh, you're boring. Where's your rebel DNA? Your pirate spirit?" Dark Jak then dropped on his knees and continued mocking, "you minatory son of a bitch, where is your heart? You'd break mine if I had one."

"Not funny. Get up and sit down."

"What if I sit down here on the floor?"

"Well that's fine."

"Okay", Dark Jak said and sat on the table instead of the table, "put the gun down, man, you ain't gonna shoot me."

"Try me."

"C'mon, you wouldn't shoot someone who has just cost you a bag of eco ore."

Torn lowered his weapon. "Yes, I would."

"Okay, I believe you. Sorry for that incident", Dark Jak cracked his neck, "you can sit down, too, you know."

"I prefer not to."

"It's all the same. That's your ass", Dark Jak opened the bag of ore again and started chewing, "why is this subject Erol so inflammable for you?"

"Why is tautology so overused for you?"

"Who knows. Anyway –"

"We'll not talk about it!"

"Are you showing emotions? Torn, aren't you an iceberg?"

Torn swore and pointed the gun once again towards Dark Jak. "Keep your maw shut, okay?"

"Then I couldn't eat these crystals and Jak would bleed dead. I know I have dark powers enough to go 'round but I still can't digest through my skin –"

"You know what I meant!"

"Okay okay, fine. Relax, man, you're like a metal head with a headache. You know, I think this work is too oppressive for you. Perhaps you need to change career –"

Torn had had enough. "SHUT UP YOU –, YOU –"

"You're angry. How fascinating."

Torn pointed his weapon at Dark Jak, but then lowered it and sat back to the bunk. "Why me?" he asked from particularly no-one.

They stayed quiet for a long time, the other resting his head on his hands and the other eating a crystal or two sometimes. Then, finally, Torn spoke:

"How long will it take for… For you to go away?"

"Do you want me to go away?" then after a short silence Dark Jak continued, "you can be honest. I know you want me to go away. I'm an irritating freako with an attitude issue and I give people creeps… And it will take at least this night 'til I can bring Jak back. Look", he stood up to show Torn his thigh, "the wound has healed somewhat a bit already."

Again they sat in silence.

Dark Jak sighed. "How do you have the strength to do this?"

"What?" Torn asked.

"This… work. Underground stuff. Taking care of other people. I think it's oppressing and I ain't doing it."

Torn shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes it is hard."

"I guess I shouldn't say this", a smirk danced on Dark Jak's face, "'cause he'd never say it, but Jak thinks you're doing great job."

"What?"

"Jak thinks you're doing good job, though… Well, yeah."

"Though what?"

"I'll leave it unsaid."

"No no, just say it."

"Ah ah, I won't."

"Why not?"

"Fine!" Dark Jak jumped on his feet, "you'll tell me what I want to know and I tell you what you want to know. A deal?" he asked holding out his hand towards Torn's direction while standing on the table. "Don't worry, though Jak normally can see through my eyes he's fast asleep or about unconscious now. And I won't tell him a thing – and even if I did, would he believe me?"

Torn thought about it for a moment but finally his desire to know more about this young and withdrawn faery man won his own insecurities. "Fine." He clasped hands with Dark Jak and put away his six-shooter.

"Cool, man", Dark Jak sat again and Torn sat back to the bunk, "my turn first. So, tell me the truth now, why do you and Erol hate each other so much?"

"I knew you'd ask that", Torn said with half a smile.

"I didn't force you to make a deal with me."

"Yeah, you just had kept on asking 'til I had gotten frustrated enough to slip the answer."

"Yeah", Dark Jak put on his most innocent face, "but I didn't force you."

"Fine… Me and Erol…" Torn stuttered, "we haven't always hated each other."

"Okay, how nice, please go on."

"Don't hurry me! Anyway, I and Erol, we were in KGs at the same time. He's a bit younger than me, but I had gotten into KGs later. There is this training that lasts for six to nine years."

"So you were in the training together?"

"At the same time, yes."

"How old were you?"

"Hm…" Torn scratched his shoulder, "I started when I was twelve or something but Erol's like two years younger than me."

"You look much older."

"Well thanks a lot."

"I don't think it's a bad thing at all."

"Anyway, Erol and I shared the room from the beginning. And we were the best. We both completed the training in just five years which is like the record or something."

"You're a KG record holder?" Dark Jak laughed, "and fight against them? I guess they've erased your name, though."

"Probably", Torn nodded, "then, I and Erol, we went to same battalion."

"You mean one side of the city?"

"Kind of. Erol and me, we were at first there on the fields."

"You mean where they grow stuff? Near the bazaar?"

"Yes. Then we went to bazaar, and then… Well, we worked about everywhere. Except for the slums which is a good thing. Otherwise Erol would have probably caught us if he knew the slums like I do."

"You're from here?"

"I'm a slum kid."

"And he's?"

Torn snorted. "He's an upper class pup."

"Can believe that of him. Did you serve in Krimzon Guards together all this time?"

"Yes."

"How can you both progress and get promoted so smoothly together?"

Torn scratched his shoulder again, "well… It was… We got along well and helped each other. There were times when I learned something faster than Erol and other way around but then we just faked it."

"Fake it 'til the other one makes it?"

Torn nodded. "Well said."

"So, you were friends?" Dark Jak grilled.

"Yes."

"Tell me", Dark Jak leaned forward, "how good friends?"

"Oh well… Best friends", there was some melancholy in Torn's voice which sounded odd on him.

"Okay, so you were the best friends for years. Why do you hate each other these days?"

Torn chuckled. "I'm a traitor, what else could he do than hate me?"

"As example join you."

"No", Torn chuckled again, "KG is the life of Erol. I sincerely doubt that there is nothing underneath the Krimzon Guard Erol anymore."

"Sounds like most wonderful person", Dark Jak leaned back again and took another crystal, "How could you get along with him? Was he such an ass-kisser as nowadays?"

"No. Well, yeah. He's always been a bit of an apple polisher."

"And who knows somehow", Dark Jak trolled and clawed little bits off of an eco pebble, "all the other bits have fallen en route."

Torn nodded in agreement. And when the white faery with purple holes all over his body stayed quiet for a moment he started: "So, now it's my turn?"

"Ah ah", Dark Jak denied, "I'm not finished yet. Just thinking. Now listen, isn't this almost eldritch? People in the streets actually call this civil war sometimes Tornerol. It is supposed that the second you see each other you cut each other's throats. And when you talk about Erol as an individual you don't seem to hate him at all. There is even this melancholic note in your voice – which in your case is spectacular. Are you sure you hate Erol? Or do you hate something else?"

_Dear Mar can I back out of this deal…?_

Torn stayed silent for a while. He didn't want to tell anything else for the dark faery. Torn was not an open person, he kept his personal thoughts to himself and sometimes he felt that even he hid something from himself. But on the other hand telling all these harmless things to this awkward creature in this awkward situation was kind of alleviating. "Do I need to answer that?" he asked without really pleading.

"You do."

Torn sighed, "well, the thing is I don't hate Erol. Or at least the Erol I knew. I may hate his deeds or his principals or myself at times, but yeah, you're right, I don't necessarily hate him."

"Don't you think it is weird that this base of the Underground has been so safe although it is more of a public secret than a secret secret?"

_Public secret?_

"Public secret?"

"Torn, please!" Dark Jak mockingly grabbed his own head between his hands, "I thought you were clever, man. You have your symbol painted on the door. And yes, ev'rybody knows whence to find you. Don't you think it is some sort of a miracle that KGs never come to this alley?"

"What's your point?"

"Erol is a KG commander. Right. KGs never come here. Right. Are you sure Erol hates you all that much?"

Torn cackled. "Are you saying that Erol would have anything preventing him from destroying the Underground?"

"Just wishful thinking, perhaps", Dark Jak cracked his knuckles, "but what I know is that you're still not telling me the whole story. I can read only Jak's thoughts, but I know when someone's lying or hiding something. You'll just develop those skills when you're not the one who's been talked to."

"When is it my turn to ask?"

"As soon as you tell the truth. I think I know what is it so I'll ask more straightforwardly: how close were you and Erol, if you know what I mean?"

"I'm not gonna answer", Torn stood up.

"No!" Dark Jak roared and also stood up, "answer. Then I'll tell you anything you want."

Torn noticed that unlike Jak, this dark alter-ego was almost taller than him.

"Fine", he hissed, "but if anything – anything! – of this gets to Jak's ears…"

"What?"

"I don't know. I'll rip them off", Torn sat back to the bunk, "so, yes. I know where you getting at and yes, you're right."

"So you and Erol slept together?"

Torn's eyes wandered around the walls until they stopped on the pitch-black orbs. "Yes."

Dark Jak jumped onto the table again. "WOHOO! That was the climax of the evening!"

"Happy now?" Torn asked moodily. He felt like he was naked. Like an ever so secret part of him had been – ironically – torn out and spread on streets for the public to see. At the same time, he felt relieved.

"Don't worry", Dark Jak smiled and sat again, "I'm not judging you or anything. Whew, how hard it was to get that out of you, man? I'm done with you now, ask me anything!"

Torn had so he wanted to know but suddenly he only had questions he didn't dare to ask. "Erm… I don't know."

"C'mon!"

"Okay, well… Do I say 'well' all the time?"

"Well you well do well. But well I don't think it well matters."

"Okay, well… Well well well", Torn realised he was scratching his shoulder again and stopped it. "What were you about to say earlier? When you left it unsaid?"

"Oh", Dark Jak was looking at some of the maps, "Jak thinks you're doing good job, but he doesn't know what to think about you."

"How come?"

"You're wholly emotionless on the outside. Like a sociopath."

"Thanks."

"But you are!" Dark Jak poked Torn with the blunt side of one of his claws. "When was the last time you smiled, yelled, showed grief or had a conversation with Jak or any of your men?"

Torn was sure he had done that many times, he just didn't remember when the last time had been…

"Jak's passive aggressive", Dark Jak continued, "you're passive aggressive –"

"I'm not passive aggressive!" Torn cut in.

"Oh please! Jak doesn't know what to think about you. Or should I say he does know what to think about you but doesn't know you."

Torn lifted his eyebrows. "Does Jak wish to know me?"

"Of course not. Nobody wants to know you", Dark Jak said with a straight face and ate a crystal, "of course he does. He just doesn't know how to, and his stupid passive aggressive pride gets in the way. Anything else you'd like to ask?"

"Well…" again Torn found it hard to come up with a question. "What does Jak think about you? He doesn't seem to like you that much."

The fair-haired faery sighed. "Jak hates me. Mostly for the things I don't or didn't do, but also for just being there. I can't complain. If I suddenly got a bad ass asshole to live in my head, to see my secret thoughts and to laugh at them, I wouldn't be on cloud nine for that."

"What are those things he blames you for that you don't or didn't do?"

"Mostly it's the pain. Dark eco causes pain. I'm a pain in the ass, aren't I?" Dark Jak joked but then sobered, "but yeah. Jak aches all the time and there's nothing he – or me – could do to palliate it. So, he takes it out on me. And Jak's under lots of pressure and stress anyway. He's in a completely different world, man! I've never been to this what-is-it Sandover but the images in Jak's head make it seem like a true paradise. Jak's lost his family or what was a family for him and all he has is Daxter who in the past wasn't furry, orange nor one foot tall to begin with. Yeah, Daxter used to be a normal faery."

That was new to Torn. He had wondered how that pesky rodent had learned to speak but he had never assumed that Daxter actually was a bygone faery.

"Jak's quite confused", Dark Jak, "and to be honest, I'm no help", he sighed again, this time with genuine sadness. "I'm hated ev'ryday by someone from whom I shall search acceptance. That is just so… I dunno… Heavy. Hurtful. Especially when I can't even point a finger and go 'no-no, your wrath has no cause'" Dark Jak sighed again and stared at the floor.

Torn did something that surprised him himself. He leaned forward and placed his hand on the creature's naked knee. He was surprised by how warm Dark Jak was, almost hot.

"You look icy cold but you're warm to touch", he said with a smirk.

Dark Jak turned to look at him. Then he looked at the hand before turning his eyes back to Torn's face. "I'm shocked at you, Torn", he said with a smirk.

The red-headed faery laughed a bit sheepishly and took his hand back.

"Torn", Dark Jak said, "come here. I've got to tell you a little secret."

"Do I wanna hear it?"

"I betcha!" Dark Jak smiled, "though Jak's gonna kill me for this."

"Well, perhaps we'll never let him know."

"As long as it's not me who told you this you can do whatever you want with the info", Dark Jak chuckled, "now come here."

Torn shook his head and moved to the table. "So, what is this top secret arcanum?"

"Lean closer."

Torn realised that something was touching his ear but it took him a while to realise that it was a tongue. He jumped up immediately. "What the hell do you think you're doing!"

There was an impish look all over Dark Jak's face. He took the bag of eco ore and poured all the remaining crystals into his mouth. He chewed them and rose up. He stood before the commander and dropped the blue jacket to the floor. "I'll do whatever you want me to."

Torn didn't want to look at the almost naked faery but couldn't help but to.

_Those eyes… And all… …those other thingies…_

All the men were out on missions. No-one would come. No-one would be there to see them. Dark Jak pushed Torn against the wall.

"Oh no!" he moaned as Dark Jak started licking his neck. "Oh no…" his breathing was tightening and he could feel the heat of the white mutant all over his body. The sparkling dark eco made the whole experience almost exotic and damn Dark Jak knew what to do. Torn closed his eyes.

_No-one to see them._

Finally Torn surrendered and turned his face against the white one.

"Oh yes."


	2. Dirty Laundry

_Name of the story is actually Forced Confessions/Dirty Laundry, but it seems like the slash-symbol can't be used in the title. _

_Characters and venues belong to Naughty Dog._

_Zhi, Nyeki and the authors mentioned in this story are invented by me, but Naughty Dog can have them if they want to. P_

_Timing takes place during Jak II. Not compatible with the official time- and storyline. _

_Rated T for mildly depicted sexual action and language. (there are F-words near the end)_

_This became longer than I intented... Each and every review is welcome!_

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**Dirty Laundry**

The first thing Jak noticed when he woke up was the overwhelming weakness in his body. Somehow he felt like he should have hurt like hell but his nervous system was too weak to send out anything else but an intolerable itch. Jak tried to raise his hand to scratch his face but only managed to cause a twitch to his arm. In the short time between the sleep and the awakening he had thought that the surface he was on smelled and felt like an Underground bunk and now when he finally cared to open his eyes, he found out his nose and nerves hadn't lied to him. Yep, one of the bumpy mattresses with its hardly washed bed linens. Although the smell hinted towards bad personal hygiene, Jak was quite glad to find himself on the smelly fabric (although finding himself on clean and fragrant cloth could have been a bigger pleasure…). Being in the Underground always gave the green-and-blond-haired faery the feeling of safety. No matter how many Hell Cats and KGs were after him, when he saw the alley and saw the painted doors open, he knew nothing could hurt him anymore – or at least shoot his brain out. Jak was headstrong, bolshy and sometimes brave to the borderlines of foolishness but he wasn't stupid enough not to understand that there was always a possibility that somebody would make him kick the bucket. The base of Underground was safe (at least between the limits of relativity and ridicule), although being there brought out other insecurities of his.

He tried to remember the events of the last night, to which he very often didn't run into. What had happened? He had been sent on a mission to destroy the first fleet of the new heat-seeking plasma-coiled solid-red-eco-armoured blaah-blaah nearly-hyperspace-navigating almost-perpetual-motion Hell Cats which also had a guarantee of two civil wars and leather seats with genuine strawberry scent. He remembered taking that massacre machinery down - it was hard but hell he did it. Jak didn't usually feel proud of what he called the daily surviving, but this time around he did and with a reason. The last one of those Hell Cats had shot him down, but he had destroyed it afoot with only a few remaining ammo in his Vulcan Fury! And then…

_And then?_

Jak was sure he didn't go to Hip Hog Saloon after that, so there had to be another reason he didn't recall the last night.

_You know it?_ He asked from the creature in his head, but astonishingly it didn't answer. Jak repeated the question though he knew that his dark alter-ego could read his thoughts anyway.

No answer. Only a tiny tickling feeling of mischievous amusement lurked out for Jak to know.

He felt a sudden need to explode at the intruder in his head. For once he was asked something and he didn't care to answer! Jak didn't especially love Dark Jak as Daxter called it and had rather called it something else as he didn't feel that the long-clawed wight was a part of him more than a shoe or a scratch was. And still the eco-being was scarily similar to him, though Jak wished he didn't come across as such an irritating and morally questionable person.

_What happened? _

Jak managed to fumble his forehead with his hand before the strength escaped his veins. He had a bandage on his frontal bone, and seemed to have bandages here and there, so something had happened for sure. But what? Had he been shot? Then how did he get to the Underground base?

"And there was a girl who could make love to ev'ry guy, for each and ev'ry guy she had a sparkle in her eye…" a voice of sliding doors and a singing ottsel pulled Jak back from his thoughts, "…but she loved only me and ev'ry hair on my fur, but that horny chic's darling's covered in cloaca dirt!" Daxter finished his song by moonwalking to Torn's desk. "Jak!" he shouted as he saw his pal on one of the bunks. "Sheesh, you here. Didn't see ya. Sleeping, huh?" The ottsel placed its head and hands on the edge of the bed and though he looked as adorable as always he reeked horrible.

"Yeah or at least I was", Jak admitted. "I can't remember the last night though. It is the new day by now, right?"

"Yeah, it's da so-called tomorrow morning", Daxter said. "Can't remember the last night, huh? Are you okay? Or did you go to have a couple of drinks?"

Jak smiled. "I would remember if I did. I just remember destroying all the Hell Cats."

"I saw a few of those junks on my way back", the ottsel said and went to shower himself with the water pipe. "Yuck! Please promise me it was the last time I – ever! – had to go to Palace via drainpipes!"

"Did you get the stuff you were looking for?"

"The secret plans? No", Daxter said while soaping his fur, "but I got the juiciest gossip! D'ya know about Erol's wart?"

"Dax", Jak smirked, "you know who's gonna kill ya."

"Don't worry", the showering ottsel shrugged it off and then continued: "I got the plans."

"Good. You didn't run into any trouble?"

"Hey!" Daxter turned the water off. "I went into da Palace. Of course I got into da trouble! Them crimson people had sealed one pipe so I had to improvise a bit but I got through it. I just dunno if Tattooed Wonder likes the fact that I overturned a wall, but hey, you've gotta live with da situation."

"Overturned a wall?" Jak laughed. "Dax, I was worried about you."

"Aww, don't be. I'm a smaller target than you." Daxter shook his fur dry. "Wow, you really look shit today."

Jak laughed again. "Thanks."

"Are you sure yer okay?" the damp ottsel climbed onto the bed and sat next to Jak's head. "You got a wound I see."

"I've got lots of wounds I suppose… But I'm fine. I'm just feeling weak. Tell me 'bout the plans."

"Don't cha wanna hear 'bout the gossip first?"

"Bring it on!"

"You're never gonna believe this, but there was this one Krimzon Guard and a yakow and one night a couple of days ago a few other Guards went and…"

Torn arrived about an hour later, when Daxter was half-way through Baron's not-so-secret-plan-anymore after babbling about rumours and ridicules for quite a while. He jumped to the aisle and announced pompously: "The Demolition Duo has been reunited!"

"Got the plans?" Torn asked with ice piercing bluntness.

"Yep, all in my head", the orange rodent tapped his skull. "D'ya wanna hear them?"

"No", the blunt faery said and stepped over the ottsel. "I'll ask for them later."

Jak couldn't help but notice that the commander was a lot moodier than the usual take-moody-onto-the-next-level Torn. He wondered what had caused this deepening of an emotion, the only emotion he had seen Torn put to use.

"Torn", he asked, "what happened last night?"

The faery in question turned quickly and gave Jak a quartz hard glance before turning back to the cupboard. "You completed your mission."

"Yeah, but after that?"

"You bled."

"Bled?"

"Wounds do."

"And I did?"

Torn didn't care to answer. He placed a few small glass bottles onto the desk and came to Jak with a needle and a tiny glass plate. "Your finger", he said and then continued, "no, never your trigger finger." He stabbed Jak's middle finger with a needle. Behind Torn's back the ottsel jested with his middle finger the other way around and Jak couldn't hold a tiny smile back. Torn went to his desk with the blood samples and dripped a drop from each glass bottle onto the glass disk.

"That's impossible!" he yelled suddenly.

"What?" Jak asked but didn't get an answer.

Torn went back to his closet and took out another set of pink, blue and transparent bottles. He played around with them until stopping and staring at the blood samples. Then he stabbed his own finger and the routine was done over. "That's impossible", he repeated in a confused tone. Jak noticed that the confusion suited the commander as well as being chronically pissed-off.

"What?" Daxter asked.

"You probably feel weak", Torn said turning to Jak. "That's because of blood loss. Normally I'd give you new blood to fix that, but now it seems impossible."

"Why?" the Demolition Duo asked with one throat.

"'Cause Jak doesn't have a blood type", Torn blurted out.

"What!" the Demolition Duo hollered.

"Your blood repels both A and B blood, so it should be AB. I tried with AB to get the final confirmation and your blood repels it, too. You even repel blood type O and that should not happen."

"Beg ya pardon", Daxter bounced onto the desk. "Are you sure yer bottles are fine and fresh?"

"They work perfectly with my blood", the commander snarled and stabbed the rodent with the needle. "And look, they work with you, too. Your blood type is the same as mine, B."

"So", Jak began, "what does it mean?"

"That there is a thing in this world", Torn said without a hint of emotions, "that connects my unfortunate soul to this miserable gnawer."

"Eh, fine. But I meant my blood type…less…ity?"

"If we can't get you blood", Torn said and shrugged, "you'll be tied to your bed for weeks, maybe months."

"Tied to my bed?" _For months!_

"Yeah. A faery body doesn't move well when it's slowly recovering from blood loss. We're not like yakows."

The expression on Daxter's face just screamed 'a wonderful idea'. "What about giving Jak yakow blood?"

Both faeries stared at him.

_Daxter! Please…_

"What? Wasn't it a great thought?"

"What about getting a physician?", Torn asked moodily.

"Yeah, that's cool. Get Jak a doctor. And while you're on it… get yourself a shrink!"

Torn grabbed his morph gun and walked out of the doors.

"Why's he like that?" Daxter asked and climbed back onto Jak's bed. "Has he sat in a beehive? Like, longer than usually? Anyway, where was I in the plan? Oh yes, then after the accidentally fishy accidental death of that politically open-minded chic – she's got good glandulars by the way! – then them crimson people… Jak, don't you know what's a glandular organ? Jak, yer clearly most uneducated. A glandular organ is a tit! …No, Jak, not the bird! Are you bugging me on purpose or are you just stupid? And where was I? Oh yes anyway, they are about to blow up – no! Jak you're a yakow, the Krimzon Guards are about to blow up, not the boobs… Sheesh, now, so, the KGs are 'bout to blow up the eastern side of da slums in order to get to that ore, which is just an excuse of course, but them people need to get rid of that chic first and that's where Torn comes in, he'll probably have the chic for himself, but anyway after that…"

Torn arrived in the afternoon with a man who was wearing Krimzon Guard pants but had left the upper armour somewhere. As soon as Jak saw the man bells went on in his head.

_A Krimzon Guard. He brought in a Krimzon Guard?_

"Don't make a habit outta this, Torn", the Krimzon Guard said with a bit nasal voice, "I still don't wanna be a part of your Underground."

"I know, Zhi", Torn said. "Believe me, I ran out of all the other physicians."

The KG, apparently Zhi, snorted. "Those so-called physicians."

"Well, at least they work for me."

"Such a silver lining."

"Better than nothing."

"Eww", Daxter sniffed at Zhi's undershirt. "Don't you shower? I have a sensitive nose."

Zhi's eyes got very big as he looked at the orange rodent standing on Jak's bed. Not because of what the rodent said but overall for the fact that he had said anything. Jak and Torn were both so used to the Orange Lightning that they always forgot what kind of a shock the hardly eloquent but ultimately talking rat was.

"Forgive him", Jak said and smirked at the man's astonishment. "He's not known for his good manners."

"Right. You must be the patient", Zhi shook hands with Jak who managed to lift his arm, "and you", Zhi turned to Daxter, "yes I do shower. But it's a sunny day out there and a Krimzon Guard uniform is warm enough."

"It's air-conditioned, isn't it?"

"It is. But it's also made in Haven."

"And?"

"That's the answer", Torn cut in. "The air conditioning doesn't work in the heat of the afternoon, so practically it's no use at all."

"Yep", Zhi nodded, "I wish I could join this rebellion so I wouldn't have to bare that nasty outfit. But", he turned back to Jak, "you. So, you ain't having a blood type?"

"Torn says so."

"Let's find out." Zhi took stuff out of the big pack he had brought in with him. Again Jak was stabbed with a needle, though Zhi's needle was more like a medical instrument whereas Torn's had been a simple safety-pin. "Yeah, no blood type."

"That's impossible, isn't it?" Torn asked.

"That's fascinating!" The KG physician took a quite large machine out of his pack. "Now, this is an electrothroughseer."

Jak glanced at the apparatus that looked like an accidental offspring produced by a one-night stand of a plasma screen and a torture device. For certain reasons Jak wasn't keen on the latter ones, thus he didn't welcome this new machine with hip-hip-hoorays. "Ele-what?"

"Something that exceeds our budget of three years", Torn explained.

Zhi chuckled. "It sees you through your skin. I can choose do I wanna see blood, bones, strings or whatever I can find inside you."

"Fair-haired monsters?" Daxter asked impishly.

"Dax!" Jak snarled.

"Well, I guess there's no blonde monsters inside this faery", Zhi said to Daxter. "Although I have heard the rumour."

"Yeah, it's probably just a KG rumour", Torn added but Jak thought he could catch a glimpse of sarcasm in his voice.

The physician paused for a moment. "This is the prison escapee, right?"

"You're a KG", Torn shrugged, "I'm not supposed to tell you that he is."

_Huh? He told? Not supposed to? My ass, he told a KG!_

Zhi chuckled again. "I don't understand how you did it", he said to Jak, "but sure you're good at driving Erol crazy. What's your record?"

"My record?"

"How many of us have you killed?"

"Ehm", Jak looked at Torn.

_What should I say? Does he have me slain if I say 'many'? Or -_

"He can't count that far", Torn answered. "Actually, Zhi, if you're going to stay in KGs, I can't promise you that this young talent of the year won't kick your ass."

"He won't kick my ass if I accidentally run into a teeny-weeny clinical error", Zhi said while placing the throughseer on Jak's chest. The blood and blood type lacking faery didn't find that certain joke funny. "So, blood… Interesting."

"What is it?" Daxter hopped over Jak and came to watch the screen of the machine.

"Your blood is pretty dark coloured."

"Can you really see my blood?"

"In theory, not. Practically, yes. The machine analyses your blood and draws it onto this screen. It's not live picture of your insides but it's a good substitute. You see, your insides are completely in dark."

"Yeah, lotsa darkness", Daxter replied and looked at Jak with a smirk, "but what's with the blood colour?"

"It's just more purple than usually."

"Oh, I wonder why's that." Daxter kept on joking. It seemed like Daxter had chosen to take the subject Dark Jak intentionally lightly and Jak usually respected it as nurturing gloomy thoughts didn't help anything. But sometimes he just couldn't find the right state of mind to laugh at the ottsel's jokes.

Zhi worked on the machine. "Now let's zoom. Okay. So here's a few schemes of normal blood and soon a scheme of Jak's blood should appear and we immediately –" The silence took over the room.

"How fascinating!" Torn blurted out.

"Happening", Daxter whispered.

"What?" Jak asked. "Tell me, it's my blood."

"This can't be…" The physician said and worked on the machine again. "Seriously. I've never seen such an extraordinary blood cell."

"Extraordinary?"

"Yeah, Jak, it's quite cool", Daxter explained enthusiastically. "It's got tentacles and horns and all them crazy stuff."

"Yeah great, Dax." Jak said assuming that it was a bad joke. "No, really?"

Zhi nodded. "There is this amazing complexion on it. I don't know what has caused it. I could analyze it and I actually wish to. This is a medical miracle to say at least."

Jak raised his eyebrows. "A miracle?"

"Or in your case a tragedy 'cause there is no blood to give you", Zhi took the throughseer and placed it carefully to his pack. "I think that was that. I'm no help"

"Don't you want blood samples?" Torn asked.

"I already got those little drops. This boy's so lacking blood that I'm not gonna make him bleed more."

"What do you suppose? How long will it take for him to heal?"

"Well, in normal circumstances it depends on the overall shape of the patient, the genes, the stress factor and the blood type. In his case, considering that his blood takes supposedly a lot more to be formed than an ordinary corpuscle due to the complicated exterior… I have no idea."

Torn sighed and rolled his eyes. "I suppose you want the payment now."

"My, why didn't you tell me you can read thoughts?" Zhi said in a delighted tone. "'Payment'. I just love the sound of those syllables."

"Oh, I wonder why's that", Torn snarled mocking the rodent and gave Zhi a little bag. Torn escorted him to the door and they changed a few words.

"You brought in a Krimzon Guard?" Jak asked from Torn as the commander returned.

"I did."

"Isn't that pretty risky?" Daxter shouted.

"I can tell you that Zhi's more loyal to us than he is to Baron." Torn sighed and cleaned his desk of the blood samples and bottles. "It's just that Zhi's got a family and he's got to make the living. Only a few want to be Krimzon Guards. Most have no other choice." He turned to Jak. "That's why I don't encourage you to slaughter KGs unless you have to."

Jak felt a sudden rush of anger. "Oh yeah. Well what should I do? Tap them on the head and have them blow my brain off?"

"I didn't say that", Torn snarled. "If you kill KGs while they're trying to kill you, I can't point a finger. But I don't encourage you to kill KGs just because they exist."

"If there were no KGs, the city would be a better place."

"I didn't expect you to be such naïve," the redhead snorted and shook his head. "Over the half of the eligible men in this town are Krimzon Guards. If you killed them all, how many fatherless children would there be? How many women would be left to miss their beloved ones? And in order to make the living the eldest sons of each family would go to KGs. It's unfortunate but it's true: you either serve in KGs or live in the slums and have practically no faery rights. Remember that."

Jak bit his lip. He wanted to say something back but couldn't think of anything worth uttering.

"So, now", Torn started while making a bed to one of the bunks with clean linens, "I guess I'll drive you to your apartment and you'll rest for –"

"I don't have one", Jak interrupted bluntly.

Torn stopped. "What?"

"Yeah, you heard", Daxter hollered. "We don't have one."

"An apartment?"

"No, we lack a foot. Or, yes, we lack a head. Or –"

"Thanks Dax", Jak snapped at the ottsel..

"So, I guess you'll stay here, then", Torn said, sounding not pleased at all. Jak felt as if an icicle had found its way to his extraordinarily purple interior and twisted and turned there right by the moment…

In the following days Jak didn't actually mind his bed vacation. He got to see the living inside the base. He had always thought that all Torn did was sit behind his desk and bark orders, but now he was surprised by the amount of action the faery went through. Torn could wake up after one hour of sleep, fly a zoomer, plan a strategy, go to a conference, collect a cargo, participate in a street fight, come up smelling like a rose (well… kind of a sweaty rose), plan another strategy, tie a wound, draw a map and read a book before hitting the bed in the next morning. Jak wasn't a person who needed lots of sleep, but Torn took that onto the next level, too. The commander really gave the Underground his everything and Jak found himself respecting the ridiculously dour redhead even more. The abovementioned moodiness stayed in the minus degrees and slowly Jak started to feel that the coldest shoulders were given to him. Torn constantly told him and Daxter be quiet and he sometimes gave them tirades about the way of the world but otherwise the commander hardly acknowledged Jak at all. Yes, it was Torn who helped the injured faery limp to the bathroom and it was usually Torn who cooked the food Jak got to eat, but the redhead never talked with Jak in more than two or three words. And when he did, there was this huge amount of energy full of wrath pushing through the sullen ice coating. Jak wondered if he had done something wrong, because something was wrong for sure.

"Have you noticed", he once asked from Daxter, "that Torn tries to ignore me as much as he can?"

The gnawer shrugged. "I don't think it's nothing you've done. Methinks he just takes it out on us 'cause we're here."

"Yeah, right", Jak murmured, "right." The days of resting started slowly to bother him.

He also started to notice his worth for the Underground. Usually Torn put a few men on missions that Jak knew would have been completed with the Demolition Duo alone. Also, some of his men failed on missions that Jak considered easy. One thing that in addition showed up was death. Every now and then a man did not return from a mission. Jak didn't know any of the other ciphers and to be honest he didn't care all that much, but still it was slightly shocking.

"Men do not die in war", Torn explained in one of his tirades one night when there were only the three of them and he was frustrated and tired. "They are dead when the war is over, but they do not die. They fall in battle or are wounded. Actually, the whole concept of war is built on one fat lie: the delusion that the wounds of violence will disappear once the antagonist is defeated. That things will be better if someone's shot."

"But you lead one side of the war", Jak said in a confused tone. "Why… how… or like…"

"Fighting a war is surviving", Torn snapped, "liking a war is insane."

Jak could see such wisdom behind those icy-blue eyes, yet he still didn't know what to think about the seemingly always pissed off faery. In the beginning he had been a little frightened of Torn but had taken his moodiness down with humour. Now, he trusted Torn but instead of vanishing, his fright had found a new way to circulate around the commander. Jak liked the redhead though he didn't know why. Torn ignored him 23.5/7 and Jak couldn't understand how he would like someone such… Jak didn't know. It was Torn who had tied his wounds but it also was Torn who had this look in his eyes that was ready to choke someone.

One night a successful mission filled the Underground base with drunken and drowsy faeries who celebrated the new wrench in Baron's works. Jak heard the story at least twenty times, each time from quite a different angle ("…and none of this coulda been possible unless this fine friend of mine here, with my self-sacrificing help of course, had not have…"). Torn stayed sober and watched over the fuss with a tolerating look in his eyes. Even he couldn't hide his smile when the rebels laughed at Baron. Daxter, who acted more drunken than he really was, left by the midnight with Tess, who acted more stupid than she really was. Jak didn't mind, actually he had told Daxter he could run on his own businesses. The patient had reasoned that Daxter needed to pay more attention to Tess than him now when it was possible, but in the end Jak was relieved that the ever so likable babbler was gone for a moment. As much as Jak loved the ottsel like a brother, Jak felt like he needed his own time.

That night all the bunks were filled, some carrying several sleeping (or practically passed out) faeries. Jak and Torn were the only ones awake, the fair-haired one lying on his bed staring at the bunk above and the latter one working on a couple of maps. Torn yawned, rose up and checked that every bunk was put to use. He took an auxiliary blanket from the closet and settled himself on the floor between the desk and Jak's bed. Torn could have easily woken up one of the ciphers and took his bed, and the rebel wouldn't even have felt a need to complain, but Torn didn't do it. Jak found himself surprisingly moved by the redhead's humbleness.

"Torn."

The faery in question turned over and saw the pillow Jak reached out for him.

"Take it."

"No", Torn whispered back. "You keep it."

"I've got a mattress, you've got a plank." Jak grinned. "Just take it and play martyrdom."

Torn grinned back and took the pillow. "Thanks", he whispered simply and Jak saw a whole different look in his eyes, a look Jak wanted to deposit to his mind. But the look didn't last for long and Torn turned over to his right side and Jak couldn't help feeling betrayed although he knew it was childish.

_Why am I feeling these… things towards him? I say, of course I don't feel anything towards him. Well… At least anything I'm not supposed to. But… Why? It's like… He's always so moody and stuff – though I've gotta admit it only makes him even more – no, la la la, I'm not thinking like that. Ahem, and he's old. Yeah, very old. Though, it only – not again, not at all, no no. And like… He doesn't even look good – of course he doesn't have to and I haven't looked him like that but anyways as example he's got those ridiculous tattoos, oh how their black lines fell on his face… He's so handso- handsaw! Eh, handstanding? Hand-washable? Handmade? Eh, handicapped? Or he's hand and glove with eh a big yakow, eh, a big, a big big – la la la, I'm not thinking. Ahem, and his voice. Yeah, his voice. Like someone has mauled his throat. Although, well, that sexy, hoarse – I must be really tired, I almost thought I almost used that big bad S-word. Anyways, I'm not feeling these things towards him, okay? Torn's an asshole – and I'm not thinking about his asshole, right? Of course not! And… Well, of course there's no need to start thinking ifs and evens, but even if I felt something towards him – which of course I do not – what would be the use? 'Cause he feels nothing but anger towards me 'cause I'm in his – I mean, a pain in his ass. And – yeah, he's he. He's male, a man, so I without a doubt do not feel anything towards him. Absolutely nothing. 'Cause he is he. Zero emotions. 'Cause he's a man. Yeah, he's the man… Oh, now I know! It has to be some sort of a complex. Yes, that's it. 'Cause I've never had a real father, just that a bit touched-in-the-head uncle – oh, I wonder how he's doing. Does he miss me at all?... Oh well, I've never had a father, so I'm filling the void with Torn 'cause I've had some bad times and he's old, wise, my boss and hot down to the floor – LA LA LA I didn't think that! Yes, it's a complex. It has to be. And it will pass like an adolescent craze. It's a complex…_

"It's a complex", Jak whispered aloud without noticing it.

"What's complex?" The half fast asleep sounding Torn asked, startling the younger faery.

"Eh, eh, nothing."

Torn sighed and pulled his blanket over his head. Jak blushed slightly and turned over, sensing the same pixilated amusement oozing out from the creature in his mind. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, only to see a dream he would be ashamed of the next morning…

In the following days of the pillow incident Torn didn't sleep at all. Jak noticed that the commander grew more and more frustrated, swore aloud often (which he normally didn't do) and walked circles around his desk for miles.

Bang. Torn's head hit the wall and pulled Jak back to reality.

"Ouch", the commander murmured and stared at the maps.

"Torn? Are you okay?"

"What? Of course I am."

"You hit your head to a wall. Literally."

"Not too often. Now, I need peace."

"Tell me, what's the deal?"

"The deal?" Torn still hadn't turned his eyes from the maps.

Jak almost asked about the deal between the two of them but changed the subject at the eleventh hour. "The plan you're wrestling with."

"None of your business", the redhead blurted out. "May I have my peace now?"

"Fine. Have as much of peace as you want to. At least you don't rest in it", Jak sassed. Talking about peace, the blonde faery was almost worried about his dark self. The silence continued – not that Jak would mind.

"I'm busy."

"Fine. Cut the helping hand. You've got enough cold shoulders to go around!"

"Shh! I am working."

"You are mentally asphyxiated."

"How lovely! Mister Mental tells me about behavioural adjustment. If I were you, I wouldn't talk back, especially about this subject", Torn then frowned and looked at Jak. "What the hell is asphyxiated anyway?"

Jak stared back angrily. "A rather big word."

"How wonderful. A rather big word. That's an answer to all my worries", the older faery scorned. "Have you ever thought about using words you do know?"

"Let me think for a moment", Jak mocked the act of cogitating. "How 'bout moody, boring, ugly, selfish, sullen, overworking, emotionless, ill-natured, unpleasant, verbally stingy, chronically cretin and asymmetrically tattooed hypocrite with an anger issue and flat ass?"

"That's it!" Torn yelled and hit his fists to the table. "If you speak even one word, if you move, if you even breathe –"

"I'm alive?"

"NO! You're a corpse. So if I were you, I'd keep my mouth shut. UNDERSTOOD, SOLDIER!"

Jak had to admit he might have gone too far although his intentions were pure. He had never seen Torn this angry, yelling with his face red. Jak couldn't help but feel a bit ashamed, too, although his anger and pride got in the way of saying 'sorry'. Instead Jak just lay back and turned his back towards the ireful faery.

It took a moment for Jak to get rid of his wrath. Then he rose up to sitting position and looked at Torn's direction. The redhead gave him an asking glance.

"I guess…" Jak started. "May I speak?"

"Go ahead."

"I guess I shouldn't have… Well, said what I said."

"Well, neither me. Forgive me."

_What!_

Unless Jak had sat he would have surely been knocked off his feet. Torn apologized? And it seemed like a real apology, not like a shoulder-shrugging sorry. The green-and-blonde faery struggled to find words and just nodded. Torn explained the dilemma in the plan and actually came up with a solution after a while. The commander was seemingly relieved and actually smiled. Jak watched him and felt… quite joyful.

"Perhaps you were right", Torn said and yawned. "I might have worked too hard. Sleep might be a good idea."

He lay down on the bed next to Jak's bunk.

Jak watched his side rise and fall with breathing.

Torn turned and looked at Jak, and they stared each other in the eyes. The younger faery cracked a half-smile and the commander answered. They just sat and watched each other, and Jak barely remembered the moody Torn anymore. This Torn was different: soft and easy to approach. And then –

"The ottsel's in da house!"

"Daxter?" Startled Jak looked at the door. Torn snarled, suffered a devolution to his common sociopath-self and pulled the bedding over his head.

"Who else, honey?" Daxter joked and walked to the bunks.

The blonde faery was still a bit stupefied. "Where have you been?"

"With Tess", the orange rodent said innocently and crossed his hands behind his back. "Chatting. Shopping. Partying. Copulating."

Torn made a disgusted voice. Jak guessed what the last word meant but pushed it away and told himself he didn't know the meaning.

"So, what have you two been doin'?" Daxter asked. "Chatting? Unlikely. Shopping? Unlikely. Partying? Unlikely. Copulating? Dear Mar no!"

"We've been trying to sleep!" Torn roared and rose up throwing his short knife. Of course the more underlining than fatally intended dagger missed the ottsel by inches and hit the bed leg and was stuck there. "Shut the maw, rat", the commander growled before pulling the blanket up to his eartips again.

"Pissed off? I shouldn't be surprised", the ottsel stared the dagger rather amusedly. "Believe me, some copulating would do him good."

"I heard that!"

Jak lay his head on the pillow, "I guess we better sleep, Dax."

"That's a fine hello!" The ottsel gagged and jumped onto Jak's bunk and curled up on his legs. "Night!"

"Night!" Jak murmured. He stayed awake until the dawn, though, listening to a sleeptalking gnawer, which could get rather unpleasent ("…But Taryn, my babe… Ooh, nasty girl, you know the weapons, babe…" (Jak wondered who the hell was Taryn. Daxter's dream lover?) "...Taryn, uh, this is Tess… Tess, this is Taryn… And… And she had something between her breast- I mean, teeth... Yer not angry?... Huh? You both? At the same time? Wow! Sheesh, I simply love missionary women!...")

More importantly Jak listened to the peaceful breathing of a man he tried to push out of his mind, but by the time Daxter included Ashelin to his dream Jak gave up and started thinking about Torn…

The next evening Torn was to leave for the big mission whose planning had gotten him and Jak in the argument. Daxter was to come along, too, and yes, no matter how hard he tried to fight against, the orange rat had to go and crawl around in drain pipes.

"This work sucks – literally", he snarled. "I'll join them crimson people."

"Hmm", Torn aspirated. "Too bad you're just about four feet too short. Perhaps they'll take you in out of pity."

"Nah nah nah! I was s'posed to meet Tess tonight, but now I'll be dirty! You Torn, don't get it, seriously. This sucks, man, this sucks so bad…" Daxter kept on groaning and walked out of the doors.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" the commander asked from Jak.

"I'm fine."

"Well, Tess is not on a mission right now, so I could call her if you –"

"I'm fine, Torn." Jak gave the redhead an encouraging smile. It was quite weird in a nice way that the older faery was concerned about Jak's well-being. He guessed it was an after effect of the fight. "Just go and blow ém up."

Torn smiled condescendingly. "Right. And by the way, Zhi had the samples analyzed. Said that your blood has more dark eco than he's ever seen before. But well, here I go."

"Good luck."

"Hey", Torn turned and smiled. "I don't need luck."

Jak stared after the departing faery and found himself worried.

_Worried? Why am I worried? Torn will survive ev'rything._

_No._ Jak rectified his thoughts. _Why am I worried about Torn at all?_

Jak smiled sheepishly at the walls of the Underground base. He couldn't avoid the fact: he had a thing on Torn. He couldn't push it away, so perhaps it was better to surrender. Jak wasn't ready to use the word 'attracted', but at least he was keen on the commander.

And now Jak was alone and knew exactly what to do.

For many days there had been a strange pulling feeling. He wondered if it was something his dark self did, but something in his mind tugged him towards the closet that stood in one corner of the Underground base. Jak knew Torn kept weapons, books, clothes and maps there, but there had to be something else.

Jak stood up and took a few shuddering steps. He could walk without support already, but for some reason he had stopped himself from telling it to anyone. He went to the cupboard which Torn had locked carefully. The lock wasn't a problem: Jak gave a simple request for the creature in his mind and Jak's right pinkie turned into a white and long-clawed version. He picked at the lock with his darker self's slim nail and the simple lock ticked open. Jak put the lock onto the desk while his pinkie changed back into his own finger. Then he turned to the closet again and opened the cupboard door carefully, as if a monster could jump on his face from within.

Books. Clothes. Maps. Guns. And the auxiliary blanket Jak had seen before.

Jak blushed by himself as he went through Torn's clothes. Most of them didn't differ from the commander's normal clothes at all (Jak had thought the redhead always wore the same jacket but now it seemed that there were many replicas).

_What am I doing? Going through his clothes... Ah, whatever…_

He found a dun tank top with green pattern in the front, and wondered how Torn would look in it, with his toned muscles showing, with his tattooed arms exposed and –

_A moment! Tattooed arms?_

"Where the hell did I come up with that?" Jak murmured and placed the confusing garment back to its place. He was sure Torn had tattoos on his arms, but when had he seen the redhead's arms? Torn had taken his jacket off quite a few times but his red undershirt, the one that had a scarf-like collar was long-sleeved, so…

_I must have come up with that on my own._

Jak smirked. At least he would have liked it if Torn had tattooed arms.

Jak wanted to keep on exploring the little of Torn's clothes that existed. The slight fragrant of the commander, the reveries in Jak's head… But the blonde faery knew the mission the commander was on wouldn't last forever. So, he moved onto the maps.

_Maps._

Nothing interesting in them. Jak had seen them on the table so many times before that he couldn't think of anything that would hide there. Perhaps an army of paper dust and Jak wished to avoid it.

_Guns._

Jak played around with Torn's guns: a singular Vulcan Fury, a singular Peace Maker, a six-shooter, a crossbow… The guns were intriguing and certainly of fine calibre, but Jak didn't feel the same connection with them as he felt to his own morph gun.

_So… Books?_

Jak had never been a reader type – it was a miracle he remembered how to read at all. He didn't know any of the books so picked one randomly. 'The State of Atrocious Living' by Sir Havenick didn't seem unputdownable in any way. Jak was about to place it back to the shelf, but suddenly the book that had been behind Sir Havenick's script caught his eye. 'The Common Theories of how the Sudden Changes in Maudlin Entropy are Partial to the Paradoxical Dogmas of Bourgeoisie' by Warian the Peglegged. Jak hardly understood a word out of the title, but something in this book intrigued him. He started reading but didn't understand a thing, so he just flipped through the pages.

And there, in chapter five which took 'The Differences of Everyday Martyrdom and Medical Mushroom Poisoning' under consideration, between the pages 48 and 49 were three photographs.

Three photographs which made Jak gasp his breath.

The first two pictures came in sepia tones and they both portrayed the same guy who was the Underground dart board. In the first picture Erol posed stiffly in a Krimzon Guard uniform, looking serious, but in the second picture apparently shirtless Erol smiled casually in front of something that could have been the Haven forest.

But then there was the third picture. It was in colour and it wasn't just Erol this time. It was him and Torn. The latter one had his arm on the shoulder of the other one, who had his arm on the other faery's hips. They both smiled, Torn looking at the camera whilst Erol looked sideways at him Quite softly. Actually, Jak could have never thought that Erol could look that soft. He looked…

_Affectionate. _

Again the amusement lurked out from the dark corner of Jak's mind, but he didn't care to ask the fiend.

Jak took the book again, placed the pictures where they were and kept on flipping through… And there, in chapter eleven ('Unwonted Exegesis by Woebegone Vertebrates') between the pages 118 and 119, Jak found a folded piece of paper.

_Dear Idiot_, read on it and Jak couldn't escape the fact that it looked like his own handwriting.

"What the hell", he whispered and opened the letter.

_I'm trying my best, so forgive my lack of fluency, _

_you marshmallow-brained pile of shit. Oops._

_But, isn't this what you'd expect me to say? So,_

_I'll say it: I hate you, I hate the world, blaah_

_blaah, angst. Fine? Okay, moving on…_

_Dear Jak (see, no idiot this time! (tho' not_

_calling you an idiot doesn't necessarily _

_raise your IQ (means intelligence quotient_

_if you didn't know))). I know you're confused_

_right now. Yes, it's me, your saturnine self_

_(by the way, saturnine means dark)._

_I lead you to this cupboard (I should write 'I'll_

_try to lead you' coz using past tense is quite_

_funny in this situation but on the other hand_

_I have already lead you to the closet once you_

_get to read this so the past tense is entirely_

_suitable. Quite complicated, but I hope and_

_doubt that you understood it)._

_Right now you'll probably wonder how I_

_got there, to this closet, and how could I _

_write the letter. Well, first of all I didn't_

_get inside the closet, but anyways. There_

_is this one night you don't remember, isn't_

_there? Huh? Yes. That night you were un-_

_conscious and I was free for hours. Oh, you_

_should know just what you missed. Torn _

_was such a gentleman. Ha._

_Just like you earlier (I suppose. You just_

_wouldn't start from the books, dork), I _

_went through Torn's stuff for the sake of_

_curiosity. I just knew there had to be_

_something clandestine (secret, if that's more_

_simple). As a saturnine creature, I have_

_an inborn ability to sense any secret_

_worth exposing. Aren't I lovely? _

_Methinks, yes. Ha ha._

_Anyways, I found the photos you have_

_seen already (if you haven't, find the_

_fifth chapter (something about martyr-_

_dom). Let me tell you a thing: the two _

_faeries in the colour picture were a _

_pair. Shocked, huh? And you didn't_

_hear that from me, remember. _

_C'mon, you'd suspect that out of Erol,_

_wouldn't you? After all the horny glances_

_he laid on you… Ouch! You're so child-_

_like. I hardly believe I exist. _

_If you didn't get that last sentence, just _

_forget about it. _

_The redheads in the colour photo, oh,_

_they had a relationship for a long long_

_time. But unfortunately they both couldn't_

_become commanders and the other one_

_(Erol) couldn't take it. Why Torn? Why_

_not me? Blaah blaah, angst. Ouch_

_again, workplace romances never last._

_Remember that!_

_Apropos to nothing, you'll find a few_

_more pictures between the pages of_

'_Motherlands and Vanity Fairs' by_

_Kateb Third, but I'm not sure do you_

_want to see sleazy snapshots of your _

_torturer…_

_And my de-lighted (got it, ha?) friend:_

_check out Torn's back. And think of me…_

_(hint hint nudge nudge)_

_yours sincerely,_

_Darkie_

_Ps. Oh yes, it DOES mean you have a_

_chance._

Jak squeezed the paper in his fist, feeling umbrageous, confused and deliriously pleased, all at once.

_Check out Torn's back. And think of me…_

The one whose back was to be checked arrived later that night.

"It went marvellously!" he hollered. "Surprisingly enough the rat held up his end of the bargain and now Baron's – are you sleeping?"

Jak growled and pretended to be asleep.

Torn smiled patronizingly and silently put his gun away.

_Put the jacket away._ Jak implored in his mind. And as if Torn had heard the voiceless plead, he took off the jacket and then fell on the bunk opposite the younger faery's bed.

Jak waited. And waited. Torn's breathing became heavy and relaxed. Jak waited. After a while that seemed to last forever he rose up quietly. The bunk creaked and the faery froze. The sleeping redhead didn't seem to notice anything. Jak got on his feet and tiptoed to Torn's bed. The sleeping faery rested on his side facing towards the desk, so Jak had to squeeze his way into the small place between the bunks. He checked Torn's face, which was tranquil.

_What if someone came? Like Daxter… Nah, he's probably at Tess's right now…_

Jak carefully lifted Torn's bedding and shifted it so that the sleeping faery's back was exposed. Jak raised Torn's red undershirt even more painstakingly. He couldn't get the shirt all the way up to the commander's neck, but he didn't have to. He saw enough.

Long pink scars ran down (or up) Torn's back. As Jak had once ripped his leg to a thorny bush while escaping an ireful colony of wumpbees, he knew the kind of cicatrices: the wounds didn't bleed much, just seeped a little, but the scars stayed for quite a long time.

_And think of me._

Jak had to admit to himself what it looked like. Everything just clicked. Even if he ignored all the clues and hints, Jak knew on some eerie and unaware way what Dark had done to Torn, or what they had done to each other. Jak was now disappointed. Disappointed, confused, and outrageous.

Whilst captured in his thoughts, Jak didn't notice Torn's breathing changing.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the commander asked angrily.

Jak yelped and hit his head to the upper bunk.

Torn rose up adjusting his shirt and repeated his question.

Jak couldn't think of a lie, so he bluntly told the truth: "Checked out your back."

"And why the hell is that?"

"I was told that there was something I needed to see."

"And what was that?"

"Those scars."

Torn smirked without joy. "So he told, didn't he?"

"Kind of. I guessed."

"And I suppose you guessed right?"

"It seems like I did."

Torn snorted and walked around the corner. Jak though the redhead was going to come there but instead the commander passed him and walked towards the doors.

"Where the hell do you think you're going!" Jak yelled.

"I don't know." Torn turned. "I'll just go."

"Don't even think about it!" Jak shouted. "You think you can fuck me and run away?"

"I didn't fuck you", Torn hissed from between his teeth.

"Oh not at all, you just fucked Dark Jak. And that's not me, right? There is this itty-bitty diff'rence, but it's enough right? Let me tell you something, it's still my body!"

"I know that!" Torn looked pained but Jak didn't feel compassionate.

"Do you? Well why did you do it?" Jak still yelled. "Just the fact that you fucked Dark – that's disgusting!"

"Don't think I was happy of what I did", Torn stomped to the younger faery who stood on the aisle. "Don't you think I hated myself? I couldn't even look at you for my self-loath!"

"Oh that's so sweet", Jak mocked. "A guilt-trip thing. A confessional. Torn, guess what. You are loathsome. You, you fucked Dark Jak! You fucked an eco mutant and my body! It… It's a rape!"

Torn hissed. "It's not."

"It is! You're so revolting, Torn!" Jak roared at the redhead's tattooed face. "I don't wonder why you can't fucking stand yourself! You fucking raped me!"

"Okay, whatever, I did wrong, I raped you!" Torn shouted and walked out of the inner doors. The faery turned again. "But guess what. Yeah, guess what. It was your freak who wanted it. And believe me!" Torn forced his furious face into a vexatious and joyless smile. "I enjoyed ev'ry moment of it. Dark was just so great. Believe me, I enjoyed it so much I could do it again and again and again!" the faery turned and stampeded out of the outer doors.

"You fucking idiot! You're so, so, so – disgusting!" Jak rushed after the redhead to the alley to tell him how much he hated him, though the blonde faery hardly found words to express the furore he was feeling. "You idiot! You, you fucked Dark! You, you fucking idiot! You…. You chose him when you could have me!" As soon as Jak realised what he had said he froze.

So did Torn. "What?" he asked in a flabbergasted tone and turned. "What did you just say?"

Jak still felt angry, angry to himself too, but there was something disarming in the confused yet wishful look in Torn's eyes.

"I -… You heard it." Jak looked away.

Torn came closer. "Did you mean it?" he almost pleaded.

Jak stayed silent. Then, after a small eternity he took a few steps towards the redhead, undoing the gap between them. He raised his hand on the faery's tattooed face. "I did."

"Jak", Torn said, "I, I, didn't… It just… I'm sorry."

The younger faery stared into the older one's eyes. "It's okay now", he said finally and pulled Torn closer. The commander wrapped his arms around the other faery and they shared a kiss. Jak had been kissed before – once on the shore of Sandover by a girl called Nyeki (Keira ravaged her hair the next morning). And now, just like he had been blown away by a little snog on the sunny beach years before, Jak was blown away by Torn's mature kiss on the messy alley.

"Ha ha!" Dark Jak triumphed in Jak's head. "See! You had the chance and you took it. Have him!"

_Dark, thank you. _Jak concentrated on the voice in his head for a blink of an eye, before giving all his attention to Torn.

There were no more cold shoulders, wrath or uncertainty, just two faeries engaged in a kiss.

* * *

_The end._


End file.
